He's My Kind of Rain
by a rainy day smile
Summary: Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Draco or Harry, but one can dream. They were more than willing to allow me to use them as I saw fit in this plot bunny. Oh, I also don't own any of Tim McGraw's songs either; I adapted the title because I thought it'd be cute. WARNING: mild slash and cursing. Don't yell at me if you don't like it.

**Author's Notes: **Credit to _jenahface_ for the plot bunny that started all this. Also, the title is a Tim McGraw song, but this is not a songfic. It's complete fluff, no real substance. Thanks to _FERRET OF DARKNESS_ for the beta.

* * *

_He's My Kind of Rain_

"I hate rain," Harry said morosely.

All Hogwarts students were confined to their common rooms due to the excessive amount of rain the country had received in the past week. The lake had overflowed its boundaries and the Giant Squid was relishing the new territory it could explore.

Harry looked around the Gryffindor common room. It was the third day they had been forced to stay indoors and some students were starting to get anxious. Hermione snapped at anyone who disturbed the quiet in any way. Ron had taken to incessantly drumming his fingers on any hard surface. Everyone was moody, but most of all...bored.

Harry got up and pushed open the Fat Lady.

_Maybe I'll go visit Hedwig,_ he thought. _She could probably use the company._

---

"I love rain," Draco whispered to the droplets cascading down on him.

Outside in the rain was the one place he felt he could let down his defenses. No one would intrude upon his solitude and he could let his thoughts wander. He had an uncanny sense of knowing almost exactly when it would start raining. He had tried to explain it once and failed miserably. It's one of those things that goes beyond words.

A little while before it's about to rain, the sky clouds over and becomes a murky, grey mass with no distinct lines, a stretch of charcoal-colored nothingness that melts into the horizon.

Next comes the breeze: a cool, calming thing, carefully caressing every bit it can reach. Sometimes it pulls one playfully along; other times it takes one's breath away, filling one with fresher, crisper air. It whistles through the trees and around the buildings, telling stories of where it has been to those who are willing to listen.

On the breeze is a smell, an earthy smell, of dirt and leaves and the occasional flower blossom. It seeps in and floods the senses.

Then comes the rain: cold, wet and defiantly clear. It has a way of erasing all the pain, worry, doubt, every troubling thought, from anyone it touches. One can't help but smile and smile...

Lines disappear when it rains. Everything acquires a blurred quality, like one is seeing the world through a foggy glass.

Draco didn't like lines. He didn't like boxes either; lines and boxes made everything neat and simple and packaged into easy understandability. They separated things unnaturally. He learned quickly that Nature hates a straight line.

When it rained, he felt all the presumptions, the false personas, the decisions others made for him, wash away. Rain was the only part of his life that remained untainted and pure.

It would be embarrassing if someone found out. Of course, the Slytherins knew; there was no hiding it from them. But no one else knew. Draco kept to himself and stood outside until the storm was over. If his housemates felt the drops of water fall from his cloak when he came back in, they didn't comment.

It worked better that way.

---

It seemed Hedwig hated the rain as much as Harry did. She hooted reproachfully at him, obviously upset that she had to stay in the Owlrey with its large, glassless windows. Only after many apologies and much coaxing did she fly over to him and take the proffered treat.

"That's my girl," he mumbled softly as he stroked her feathers. After a few minutes, she flew off to a perch and tucked her head under her wing. Harry was by one of the windows when he chanced a glance outside.

A flash of lightning lit up the scene and there, on the storm-torn grounds, was the outline of a figure.

_Was that…...no, it couldn't be…...could it?_

-

Breakfast the next morning was a happy affair. The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall — although not the particular shade of blue typical for the season — did not show the rain-laden clouds of yesterday.

Harry stared at the Slytherin table while he ate the food on his plate. Malfoy looked just as arrogant as ever while he made fun of other students with Crabbe and Goyle.

"Hey Harry, think the rain will hold off for Quidditch practice?" Ron asked as he took a seat beside his friend.

"Wha...? Oh, yeah, I hope so," he replied, distractedly.

-

Harry bolted out of the library, already late for practice. He couldn't believe he had lost track of time, let alone allowed Hermione to talk him into one last study session before their Potions exam. He was on the third floor when he veered into a hidden passageway that would take him to the Entrance Hall faster.

In the semi-darkness, he ran into someone.

"_Lumos_," came the cold drawl. The light from Malfoy's wand made shadows dance across the walls.

"You should watch where you're going, Potter," he said lazily.

"You should too," he said in a rush. "Just get out of my way, I'm late for —"

"— Quidditch practice? Yes, I know. I wanted to talk to you about that. I think it's gonna start raining again and I was wondering if you'd want to switch practices."

"Why?" Harry asked suspiciously. "Do you _want_ to play in the rain?!"

"We practice in all kinds of weather."

"Well, I'll be sticking to the schedule. My team's already waiting anyway," he replied, searching the other boy's face for some telltale emotion, a sign, anything. The customary blank slate was all he got.

-

Quidditch practice was an unprecedented disaster. The younger members continually slipped off their brooms; the older members were simply fed up with the rain. Everyone was shivering. Harry ended it early when a rather threatening fork of lightning split the sky.

He slowly made his way back to Hogwarts. His robes were plastered to his person and his feet were swimming in his shoes. There wasn't an inch of his body that wasn't soaked. Throughout his walk, he thought of the fireplace in the common room where he would warm himself up.

"Good god, I fuckin' HATE rain!"

---

_Shit! Why'd he have to go and say that?!_ Draco thought as he watched Harry open the door. _Now he's ruined the moment._

Draco had followed Harry out into the storm. He settled himself under a tree and watched the Gryffindors practice. They were horrible. He made sure to pull his hood up and not move as they walked past him, Harry lagging far behind.

Draco fell into step several yards behind him, admiring the storm and all it had done. His own water-logged robes hugged his slender form as he walked.

_Potter should wear more form-fitting robes. He has a rather nice a _— _oh no, this is NOT good,_ he thought, coming to a halt. _Damn you Potter, for making the rain-drenched look so..._

---

Weeks went by without a cloud in sight. It seemed Nature was trying to make up for dumping buckets on them. Harry almost forgot about that night in the Owlrey when he saw Draco going back to his common room, completely drenched after a freak sunshower.

_That's it! I _have _to find out what's going on._

-

There was no sign of a storm until a week later, at dinner. The enchanted ceiling was suddenly engulfed with iron-grey storm clouds, forks of lightning flashing between them. A collective groan greeted this abrupt change in weather. Harry, however, knew it was his chance.

He waited in an alcove off the Entrance Hall. The patter of footsteps eventually died down to just one set and, peeking out of his hiding place, he saw Malfoy heading toward the doors.

"Malfoy!" he yelled, running toward him.

The blonde-haired boy spun around, caught off-guard. "What do you want, Potter?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Well make it quick, I have to be somewhere," he said sharply.

"What are you doing outside? I've seen you out there a lot, especially when it rains. If you're up to something, Dumbledore will find out," Harry said accusingly.

"Is that so? Are you going to run and tell him Draco Malfoy keeps standing outside in the rain? Really, Potter, what I do with my free time is none of your business," he shot back sneeringly.

"If you're not up to something, what the hell do you want to go outside for?"

"I like the rain, plain and simple," Draco said before turning on his heel and walking out the door.

Harry stood there, stunned, until curiosity got the better of him and he left the shelter of the warm building.

Draco, having had a considerable head start, was halfway to the paddock when Harry ventured outside. Stopping briefly to curse the impending storm, he hurried after him. When he finally caught up, Draco was leaning against a tree, idly watching the raven-haired boy catch his breath.

"I'm amazed," he said slowly. "Your interest in my activities has apparently won out over your hatred for this type of weather."

"Just tell me what's so great about this so I can go back inside."

"You're free to go inside whenever you'd like. I didn't ask you to keep me company." A small smile spread across Draco's face as the rain started to splash around them.

"Could you maybe explain —"

"— Sod off, Potter, you won't understand," he said, fleeing the leafy cover.

But Harry was determined to get an explanation, so he took Draco's spot under the tree and watched him.

At first, he just stood in the rain, letting it soak in. After a while, he seemed to forget Harry was there and threw back his head and laughed. Harry had never seen Draco laugh like that. It was different from the haughty snigger that echoed through the halls of the school; it was childish, full of mirth and endless excitement. It was happy.

He then spun in place a little, splashing in a puddle. The smile that had formed never left his face. He looked unguarded, innocent and _vulnerable_.

Harry approached him and lightly touched his shoulder. Draco turned and they both froze, unsure what to say. Finally, Draco broke the tension.

"Ever been in the middle of an incredibly intense thunderstorm?" he asked. Harry nodded, recalling one such storm at the Dursleys' and how he had hidden under his bed.

"The lightning is so bright you think you're gonna go blind and the rain comes down in sheets. But the best part is the thunder. The cracks are so loud and forceful you can feel them in your bones. The sound reverberates through you and you realize you've never felt alive before then."

Harry just stared. He didn't know what to do with the boy before him. He felt as if he never honestly knew him. Luckily, Draco continued to talk.

"You asked me why I like being out here. The rain takes everything away. I can be me, just me, and don't have to worry about the things other people want me to be. Some people take their frustration out on others; some take it out on themselves. I dance in the rain."

Harry had been so enraptured by Draco's speech that he didn't notice he was shivering. The end of his nose was chilly and water was streaming down his back. The wind and cold had transformed Draco's pale cheeks to a rosy-pink color. A single raindrop rested on his right cheek, glittering despite the lack of light.

Harry moved to wipe it away, his thumb gliding over Draco's soft cheek. The other boy leaned ever so slightly into his touch. He tilted his head, pausing long enough to hear a muttered "Harry, what are y..." before he kissed Draco.

Draco's lips were sweet, but not overly so. Mingled in was the taste of the rain that was now pouring down upon them. Harry broke away after only a few seconds, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I don't know what came over me...I'm..."

Draco put his hand over Harry's mouth. His emerald eyes became wide with fear. "Shut up," he said before kissing Harry again.

Harry's hands flew up to rest in Draco's hair, his fingers running through wet locks. He tugged gently on Draco's lower lip before the boy showered kisses along his jaw. But Harry quickly tired of that, and captured Draco's lips again. He immediately parted his lips when Draco's tongue traced them.

He was so intent on exploring Draco's mouth that he almost didn't notice when Draco put his hands on his waist and carefully steered him backwards to the tree. Unfortunately, all the rain had made the ground slippery and Draco lost his footing. He fell down in the mud, bringing Harry down with him.

They were laughing as they untangled themselves. Harry's hand accidentally brushed Draco's crotch in the process and they stopped moving. Draco, embarrassment giving even more color to his cheeks, tried to scramble away but Harry positioned himself over him, pinning him down.

Using his arms to hold up some of his weight, he bent his head and sweetly kissed Draco.

"I think I could learn to love the rain," he said, gazing down at Draco.

Draco smiled.


End file.
